questions of red
by tayrulez
Summary: this is my first fic, so um... it's a questionnaire to find out how much the team members know about each others. Really.
1. prologue

**I was told to right a disclaimer so this is it: I don't own this show or its characters.**

**So this is the prologue for a fic that I decided to right. Its really short.**

Hightower walks into the quiet bullpen with a few packets of paper in her arms. Grace immediately stops typing upon her arrival. Rigsby looks up sheepishly from his back of cheesy chips. Cho looks up from his book and Jane slowly rolls over. Lisbon marches in, to talk with Jane over something or other. Instead, she freezes cup in hand. She looks over to her boss who finally sighs.

"Thank you for joining, Agent Lisbon." Hightower gestures her to sit at Jane's desk, watching Jane's eyebrows twitch in anticipation. "Your office will be refurbished today so you're out here, working on Jane's desk."

"Just can't keep away from me." Jane grins his infamous smile and Lisbon threatens him with the heaviest thing on the man's desk. A plastic cup holding pens. "I don't have a stapler, Lisbon."

Hightower rolls her eyes and passes out the papers. "The men upstairs want you all to have a special team building exercise."

"Don't say camping…" Jane notices him and Lisbon quietly wishing the same thing.

"And this way, you don't need to leave the pen. A questionnaire. And answer truthfully." She adds that last part, staring at Jane directly.

"What?" He holds his hands in defense. "I answer truthfully."

"Since when?" Someone asks. He can't tell if it is Cho or Rigsby. Rigsby stares at his desk and Cho just stares with no emotion.

"Relax. It's only ten questions. And I'll be watching. So no cheating. Jane."

He holds his hands up for the second time and Lisbon chuckles. Everyone gets rid of their distractions and Hightower walks away. The team flips to the first page and begins.


	2. what's your color?

**Disclaimer: Um, not mine. But I enjoy writing for them.**

Question one. Everyone reads through the question. It seems simple enough. How could this be a building exercise? What is your favorite color, your least favorite color and your team members'? Why?

Van Pelt taps her pen on her lip then settles on an answer. 'I love pink. My mom died of breast cancer when I was young, so I like to have pink things around me in remembrance of her. I can't stand the color olive green. When I was 17, I went to junior prom with this guy Eddie Gorbanza. He wore the tackiest olive green tuxedo then later told me he had to return it by nine. We drove to a funeral parlor! The guy who was supposed to wear that was going to get buried the next day. Needless to say, we broke up that night.'

She looks over to Rigsby, currently holding a pen with one hand and bringing a Cheeto to his mouth with the other. 'Wayne likes navy blue because his Granddad was in the Navy and he is the most respected man in Wayne's life. He doesn't like forest green because… well, he should tell you. It has to do with his dad.'

She turns to Cho. He seems to be studying the packet. 'Cho likes black. He's all superspy-guy or something. He doesn't like pink. He's pretty macho on all this.' She glances at Lisbon sitting over the desk. 'Boss likes bright green, but I'm honestly not sure why. She doesn't like yellow. I've seen her cringe at yellow shirts. And Jane…' She stares at the consultant for a moment then continues. 'Jane likes eggshell blue. Same color as his cup and his car. But he hates red. Too many dark memories.'

Rigsby glares at the page before him. 'I like dark blue because that is the color Navy officers like Grandpapa wore but I hate dark green because it reminds me of the woods at nighttime where it was me against my dad. Grace likes dark pink because she says she supports her mother, who died of cancer. She doesn't like dark yellow because that's the agonizing color her date picked her up in for senior prom. A banana yellow bug.' He looks around and throws his chip bag away. 'Cho likes black because of his toughness and he doesn't like pink for the same reason. Boss likes green because of, nature I guess? And Jane likes blue because of his car. Both Jane and Boss hate red. There are a lot of bad memories in there for them.'

Cho finally picks up his pen and writes. 'I like black, not pink. My reasons. Van Pelt likes pink, not orange. Her reasons. Rigs likes blue not green. His reasons. Jane likes blue not red. Blue for the ocean and red for the serial killer. Lisbon likes green not yellow. Green for whatever reason and yellow for apparently a bad date in high school.'

Lisbon thinks thoughtfully then finally gives in and writes her answers. 'I like teal. A cross between the green in my eyes – which remind me of my mother – and the blue in the teacup I see every morning when I fix my coffee. It reminds me of chance and possibility. I don't particularly like dark orange. It is the outcome of mixing red – with all the deaths surrounding my mind – and yellow, reminding me of the worst dates of high school.' She looks over at her junior agent. She is sighing, looking over to Rigsby. 'Van Pelt likes pink because her mom died of breast cancer; she doesn't like dark green because of something from her childhood. Rigsby likes dark blue because he admires the Navy but not dark green because of something he's only shared with Van Pelt. I wish Jane would open up to someone like that.'

She stares at the scholarly agent Cho, who seems to be contemplating how to answer. 'Cho likes black for some philosophical reason and he doesn't like pink because he never grew up around any girls.' Lastly, she turns to Jane. Her quiet consultant stretched out on his beloved couch. He looks upset about something but then he catches her eye, straightens up and throws her a quick smile. 'Jane likes blue. Blue for the ocean, for his precious teacup, most of his three-piece-suits, for his old Citroen DS out there in the parking lot. He doesn't like red because of the pain it brings him. He thinks the deaths are all his fault. I tell him it's not, but who am I to judge? I believe my mom's death was my fault.'

Jane scowls at the paper before him. He hates question one. He hates questionnaires. When he was younger, his dad made him fill them out with the correct answers or he'd be in big trouble. Jane shudders at the thought then starts writing. 'I love teal. Teal is such a wondrous color with portions of green and blue mixed for good measure, but also some white to keep it upbeat and alive. It is a valuable and sensitive color blending my favorite pleasures in life to one meaningful statement.' He takes a breath. 'I despise any shade of red, as the fault is mine. For Charlotte, for Angela. And especially for Sammy.'

He shifts his position on the couch and sees Van Pelt eying Rigsby. He smiles then carries on. 'Rigsby likes blue. It has something to do with Armed Forces. He doesn't like green for some reason. I don't know. Van Pelt loves the pink that comes from merging the inside of a strawberry with the stomach-numbing Pepto Bismol. It reminds her of the good times shared with her mother. She doesn't care for olive green. She tried to tell me about her proms but I never went to high school so I didn't want to hear it.'

He shifts once more, this time spotting Rigsby tossing his trash away. He lays down at a different angle then writes more. 'Cho is a tough cookie, saying his favorite color is black and how he hates pink. Not true. Secretly, the man is partial to lavender. I saw how he lit up that one week Summer had streaks in her hair dyed that way. I saw them at the mall together. He lets his guard down around her. He fondled her hair; she giggled. The next time, that part of her hair was bubblegum pink and they hardly said a word to each other. There was a glimmer of disgust in his eyes but she came back a couple days later with the lavender and he was all over her. Must be something strong in his past or he just feels that is her color, so surreptitiously it must also become his. But that bubblegum pink? He's right. Not for hair and most assuredly not for Summer Edgecombe.'

'Teresa. Such a lovely name. Terezzza. Mmmm. She used to love emerald green, which happens to be one of my pleasures to watch. Even as she glares, pouts, yells, etc. Those eyes. Sometimes I make her jokingly mad on purpose, just so I can see those beautiful gems flare up. Although, now she seems to be loving my color. Teal. I know she likes blue. She likes it every time I wear my dark blue suits. But green has been part of her life for such a long time. It's very clear why she would lean in for teal. But her hatred burns for that of darkened orange.'

His face twists up, thinking of why she hates the color. He finds her out of the corner of his eye, looking worried. He attempts to reassure her with a quick smile, but even he knows that isn't going to keep her from asking questions in the near future.

'Orange is made of red and yellow. Obviously. Red resembles the deaths she feels rests on her hands. Sure, she killed someone. And she's not too happy about that. I killed Dumar and I am not sorry. I remember that moment so fondly. Only moments before, I was sitting in the old house basement, telling her I'd rather choose finding Red John over living. She didn't believe me with such a warbled voice. She wants to fix me. She left before me, leaving me to think about what had just transpired. I finally got up and walked out. The sheriff was chained to a gurney and Teresa was talking with the captive. I wandered over to the forensics van and admired the slaughterer's shotgun.

I appreciated that he never used it, I despised how I had gotten so used to guns over the years. I hated my childhood and the gun only brought back painful memories. I was weighing the weapon when I heard the first shot. Hardy was not unconscious but rather playing possum. He had picked the lock, disarmed the arresting officer and aimed for Teresa. I reacted. I flipped the firearm and fired. Right in his heart. He dropped the gun and made a disastrous attempt to crawl. T'resa looked thankful but horrified. Confused, even. I needed time to think it out. Red. The yellow is for dates gone badly at her high school. Two bad proms, loser guys, standups… I would never do anything like that to her. If I had gone to her high school, I have a right mind my teenage boy brain would sync up with her teenage girl brain in no time flat.'

The team members set down their pens and stare around the pen for a moment, taking in light what they had just written out. Rigsby and Van Pelt match up, as well as Jane and Teresa. Cho flips the page over and begins reading question two.

Side note: Thank you, MichaellaD, for my heads-up, once again…. And thank you Guest and LouiseKurylo who also reviewed my first fic. Please keep reviewing!


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